


so many legs (too many)

by perpetual_gayness



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, and a massive wuss, every teenager in riverdale is unhelpful, girlfriends living together, there’s a spider in the kitchen, they’re both scared shitless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 05:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14326089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetual_gayness/pseuds/perpetual_gayness
Summary: “So this is how we die? Starved to death in our own home because there’s a spider in our kitchen and Archie isn’t man enough to just throw a shoe at it.”//orcheryl and toni are scared shitless when there’s a spider in their kitchen, and none of their friends are any help at all.





	so many legs (too many)

There’s a spider in Cheryl and Toni’s kitchen, and it hasn’t moved in six hours. It’s big and ugly and hairy. Toni’s in a gang, and even she won’t go near it. At first, it didn’t bother either of them too much, past the initial screaming and crying. But now they’re hungry, and the goddamn spider won’t fucking  _move._

“Okay,” Toni starts, her voice a little shaky. She _swears_ she can see the spider stretching, like it’s ready to pounce. “So. . . what if we get your bow and arrow back from Thornhill? You’re a good shot, right? We can kill it with that.” 

With a sigh, Cheryl lifts her head out of her palm. “Babe,” she’s tired of this now, “that would destroy the floor. And my bow is way too big.” 

“Fine,” Toni’s stomach growls, and she wishes that would scare the spider off. It’s certainly loud enough. “Are you sure you can’t just get rid of it? You love that spider brooch; it’s basically the same thing.” 

A scoff, diluted by fear as the spider’s countless beady eyes bore into her very soul, before she retorts. “Oh, sure. The rich girl who’s never done anything for herself in her life wears one piece of jewellery and suddenly she’s a qualified exterminator. What about the gang member sitting next to her, huh?” 

“That’s different!” Indignation runs deep in her tone, and in the glare she aims at Cheryl. “It’s different with people. I know all the ways a person can kill you, but this spider could be poisonous or a ninja or something.” 

“A ninja? A fucking ninja! Yeah, sure, Topaz. The spider’s a poisonous ninja, sent from hell specially for you.” 

“Oh, fuck off, Cheryl. You know what I mean. You saw that documentary about the rainforest. You know what these things can do. Besides! I’m smaller than you, that’s got to count for something!” 

“Yes, I agree. You’re ridiculously small, it’s hilarious.” Cheryl’s voice is cynical and doused in sarcasm, her eyes alight with annoyance. “But the spider, Toni. _Spider_. Is smaller than even you. so that’s a fucking awful excuse.” 

“Well, it’s also smaller than you! So, you get the fucker, and then we can eat.” The first pangs of hunger struck Toni three hours before, and since then her craving for a Pop’s burger and fries has only become more persistent. 

This is getting tedious now, and Cheryl isn’t getting any less hungry. “ _Or_ , I could go to Pop’s and get takeout while you stay here and spider-sit.” A sickly sweet smile tracks across Cheryl’s face, her head tilted to the side. Hopefully convincing. 

“Fuck no. I’m not staying here alone with that thing—“

”Fine! We’ll starve, sounds great—“ 

“Well, you could always spider-sit—“ 

“No, Toni—“ 

“Yes, Cheryl— _fuck_!” 

The spider moves a little to the left, and their argument dies with pitching squeals as they clamber over each other to escape. 

“Okay,” breatheless, Toni brushes her hair behind her ear and lowers herself back onto her seat, her hand still on Cheryl’s shoulder. “We need help.” 

* * *

 Sweet Pea arrives at Cheryl and Toni’s apartment exactly seven minutes after he received the ‘ _SOS. now. it’s an emergency_.’ text. The last time he panicked like this, with his heart in his throat and his stomach sinking to his feet, was when Fangs told him Toni was in the hospital. He hasn’t driven so fast in years; seven minutes should have been fifteen.

Toni opens the door and he can hear Cheryl yelling for her from the kitchen. There’s a wild look in her eyes: fear. 

“What’s wrong? Is it Cheryl? Is she okay?” He’s following Toni to the kitchen and it’s not far but the suspense might actually kill him before they get there. 

Suddenly, she stops in the doorway, blocking it with her arm. Sweet Pea nearly walks into her, only just stopping himself. “Don’t laugh.” Deadly serious. Toni’s eyes fix on Sweet Pea’s, her head tilted upwards to make up for the height difference between them. “This isn’t funny, okay? We just need your help.” 

“Sure, Toni, whatever you need.” Curiosity twists in the back of his throat, and he bites his tongue. Whatever this is, he said he wouldn’t laugh. So he won’t. But it might take more than just his willpower. 

With a nod, Toni let’s her arm swing by her side, and retreats into the kitchen. “Babe, he’s here.” 

“Fantastic. Now, come around the side, close to the wall. You don’t want to scare it. If we lose it now we’re going to have to sleep over at Ronnie’s.” 

With each word Sweet Pea’s confusion doubles. Who else is in there? “Toni, what the hell is going on?” He steps onto the tiles, immediately noticing the underfloor heating, and the spider. . .

“Nope.” It’s very large and very scary and Sweet Pea is having none of it. He backs out of the door.

“Wait!” Toni scrambles out of her chair, skidding when her socks meet the tiles. “Pea!” 

“Toni! The fucking spider is moving. What are you doing?” Cheryl screeches.

“I’ll owe you one!” Toni sounds genuinely desperate, and for a moment guilt almost sways him. Then he thinks of the spider. . . those legs. . . those eyes. And, nope. He’s out of here. “Please, Sweets. It’s been there since this morning. We’re really hungry.”

He gets to the front door, spins on his heel to face her, and shakes his head. “Sorry, Toni. You’re gonna have to call someone else. Jug, maybe?” And with that, he’s gone. 

“Toni. . .” Cheryl calls from the kitchen, voice wavering.

The front door clicks shut and Toni heaves a sigh. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll get someone else.”

“Whatever, amazing. Just get back in here, the cursed arachnid won’t stay still!”  

* * *

Jughead get’s Toni’s text, and five minutes later he’s at her door. ‘ _Jug, I need you. Get over here ASAP_ ’ sounded pretty serious, and the article he was writing on Northside prejudices wasn’t going anywhere. 

The door swings open, and his concern wanes when Cheryl opens the door, not Toni. “Oh, Cheryl.” Automatically, he buries his hands in his jacket pockets and hunches his shoulders. Defensive, ready for Cheryl to vocalise the distaste on her face. “Where’s Toni? She said she needed my help.” 

“ _We_ do, actually.” Disdainful, but almost passively. Like it’s just a reflex, and she’s not actively trying to offend. Jughead did not see that coming. “We’ve got a bit of a problem, in the kitchen.” 

Her hair whips about her shoulders as she turns, walking towards the kitchen with the clear expectation that Jughead follows. There’s the Cheryl he knows. “Cheryl, you know I can’t cook, right? Or fix your fridge.” 

“Oh, I know. I didn’t even think you were fully qualified for this job. But it was you or Archie. We went with brains over brawn.” She’s skirting around the edge of the kitchen, hugging the wall, and the menace in her voice as she does it is suddenly comical.

“Right,” he can’t even see Toni yet, and he’s starting to doubt that this is urgent at all, “and what is this job that I might not ben qualified for?”

“Just come in, Jug,” Toni says to him, her voice carrying around the corner and through the door. And then, to Cheryl, “took you long enough. That thing could have killed me.” 

“You went last time. It was only fair.” 

_What the hell?_

Jughead steps through the doorway, and sees no apparent explanation (just Cheryl and Toni huddled next to each other on their chairs, Toni with knees hugged to her chest), until he follows Toni’s stare. Then he sees it. The monstrosity. 

And it’s just sitting there, a hideous tangle of legs and that mass of eyes. It has so many eyes, and so many legs (too many, really). Nothing should have that many legs. 

Jughead’s throat seizes with terror, and for a moment he can’t breathe. It’s not something he’s told anyone, because it’s not something he’s particularly proud of, but Jughead Jones is absolutely petrified of spiders. As much as he hates to admit it, even just to himself, Cheryl was right; he’s not qualified for this job. Not in the least. 

“Oh,” he’s working his mouth around his fear to produce coherent words, but just that one syllable was hard enough. “So, this is the problem you need help with?” 

“Yes, glasses are in that cupboard by the corner. If you could just get it outside that would be fabulous.” For all her doubt, Cheryl now seems pretty sure that Jughead will just scoop the beast up and throw it outside, no problem. 

“Sure. Toni, do you have a sheet of paper I could use?” There’s no way he’s getting out of this. If he tells them he can’t do it, leaves the two of them alone with that thing, Cheryl will let everyone at school know that he, Jughead Jones of the Southside Serpents, is deathly afraid of spiders. He can’t risk that. 

So, he takes a glass and the page torn from a magazine Toni offers him, and approaches the eight-legged monster with false bravado. 

The thing doesn’t move, and somehow that’s worse than if it was scuttling all over the place. First, Jughead tries to let the leather on his back reassure him. He’s a Serpent. He has faced Ghoulies and pretentious Northsiders and even sabotage from inside his own gang. He can deal with a spider. Then, when he still feels sick to his stomach with fear, he just forces himself forward with the threat of Cheryl Blossom knowing his secret. That thought scares him more than the spider does, and suddenly he’s right over it, glass in hand. Poised. 

With a surprisingly steady hand, he lowers the glass. And. . . he’s done it! The spider is trapped, and all that’s left is to slide the paper underneath—but, oh, it looks a lot larger under the glass. Magnified to almost twice it’s size. 

Jughead can’t do this anymore. 

Flinching, he straightens up and turns to face Cheryl and Toni. “Okay, it’s under the glass.” 

Toni stands, taking Cheryl’s hand as she does the same, “great, thanks Jug. Now can you take it outside?” 

“Actually, I think I’ll let you handle that.” Stepping towards the door, he flashes a shaky smile. “I’ve got somewhere to be—“ 

“Oh no you don’t,” manicured red nails grasp his forearm, tugging him back with surprising force. “We asked you here to do a job. Kindly finish it.” There’s a smile on her lips that’s more of a grimace, and words on her tongue that are definitely a threat. 

“I got you halfway there. More than you could do,” he glares pointedly at Toni. Hopefully, his hard stare conveys the message: _help me out; your girlfriend’s a hardass_. “Can’t you just call someone else?” 

Stepping in with a gentle hand on Cheryl’s shoulder, Toni nods. “Yeah, we can call Archie, can’t we babe?” 

“Hmm,” Cheryl retracts her hand, and leans into Toni’s touch. Jughead can see her soften almost instantly. “I suppose.” 

Jughead desperately wants to bite his tongue, to remain silent and get out of there, let them figure things out by themselves. But. . . he doesn’t. “You’re going to need to call someone else, though. Archie, well, he doesn’t like spiders.” 

“What?” Cheryl scoffs, entitled as ever. “Abs-for-brains Andrews? Scared of spiders? That can’t be true.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jughead waves a hand towards Cheryl’s phone. “See for yourself.” 

* * *

 Archie shows up at Cheryl’s request for two reasons, well, three if you count Veronica wanting to see if Cheryl still had that jacket she borrowed a few months back. One, he’s curious. Two, Jughead’s there too, and Archie’s pretty sure he wouldn’t be if it wasn’t something important. So here he is, Veronica too.

Jughead opens the door after the second chime of the bell, which is odd. If Cheryl Blossom is anything, it’s a forcibly flamboyant hostess. His first words are a grave “you shouldn’t have come” before he just steps aside to let them in. Totally resigned. 

They’re barely in the door, and Veronica’s eagerly asking Jughead if Betty’s here too. Her face falls when he confirms that, unfortunately, she is not. A yell from Cheryl in greeting soon fixes that. Lips lift in a smile, and her shoes are placed neatly in the corner before she dashes off. 

“What the hell is going on here, Jug?” The look on Jughead’s face is concerning; Archie doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so pale. 

“You’re the third person they’ve called,” he begins, entirely ambiguous. “There’s a spi—“ 

Whatever Jughead was going to say, he’s cut off by a wrenching scream from the kitchen. One Archie immediately recognises as having come from Veronica. Jughead tries to tell him not to worry, tries to explain, but Archie’s heart has leapt to his throat and his feet have leapt to action. 

“Ronnie! What’s wrong? What—oh shit.” He sees now why Cheryl was so insistent he came over, and this was definitely not a social call. “That’s a big fucking spider.” 

“We know that, dumbass,” Toni hisses, the hunger really getting to her now, “it’s been there all day. We haven’t even eaten yet.” 

“What? Why haven’t you eaten? If you couldn’t get to the food here, you could have just gone to Pop’s or something.” He understands why neither of them wanted to risk opening any of the cupboards within a three meter radius of _that_ , but anything else was fair game. Veronica, Cheryl, and Toni all roll their eyes like he’s just asked the most obvious question of all time. 

“Because, Archibald,” Cheryl spits, “if we take our eyes of the spider, it might move. And if it moves, we might not know where it has gone. And if we do not know where it has gone, it could be anywhere. And if it could be anywhere, it may as well be everywhere. I am not sleeping in this apartment if there is a spider on the loose. Understand?” 

“Uhh, okay. But there are two of you, why didn’t one of you go out for Pop’s? Then the other could be watching the spider.” Once again, his query receives three simultaneous eye rolls. Each and every one calls him an idiot. Even he can see that. 

“ _Because_ , you half-wit, then one of us would be alone with the spider. And I love Toni too much to leave her alone with a spider, but not enough to stay here myself.” 

(Toni completely ignores the last part, practically glowing as she leans in to whisper “love you too” in Cheryl’s ear.) 

“So will you just get rid of it already!” 

Archie’s brow furrows at that last bit. “Oh yeah, sorry, Cheryl. No. I’m not going near that thing.”

”Couldn’t you just throw your shoe at it or something? Just kill it somehow.” Toni’s getting desperate now, and she knows Cheryl won’t like it, but she’s willing to sacrifice the kitchen tiles at this point.

“No.” Archie says, resolute. “I don’t even want to be in this house when you take the glass off.” 

Behind him, Jughead appears to whisper “told you so”. 

Toni throws her hand up in despair, her stomach growling and her lip curling upwards in disappointment. “So this is how we die?” Her gaze shifts from Cheryl—soft and caring, a hint of humour—to Archie—fierce and just plain angry. “Starved to death in our own home because there’s a spider in our kitchen, and Archie isn’t man enough to just throw a shoe at it.” 

The spider is safely under a glass, so they find themselves slouched on the couch in defeat. Two out of the five haven’t eaten since yesterday, and the other three are suffering the consequences. 

Cheryl is curled into Toni’s side, her head on her girlfriend’s narrow shoulder. Toni plants a lazy kiss to a sheet of red hair, before resting her chin there gently. 

“I miss food,” it’s only been twenty-four hours, but Toni is pretty sure she’s forgotten what fries taste like. 

“Me too,” Cheryl complains dolefully. 

It’s pitiful, really. They’re five teenagers, almost adults in their own right; two are in a gang, one is athletic to a fault, and the other two are powerful socialites with staggering inheritances. But still, not one of them can slide a sheet of paper under that glass and carry it outside to empty its contents onto the floor. Pitiful. 

“You know,” Jughead says, breaking a prolonged period of pitiful silence, “There’s one person we haven’t called. . .” 

* * *

 

Betty is both surprised and offended when Veronica opens the door to Cheryl and Toni’s apartment to reveal some kind of gathering in their front room. Cheryl and Toni are there, of course, they do live here. But then there’s Archie in the chair just off the side, and Jughead—her boyfriend—is sat, legs outstretched, on the floor. It seems she was the only one who wasn’t invited. 

“Umm, hi guys.” 

She’s met with a glum chorus of “hi Betty”. Dull and monotonous. 

“What’s going on?” She drops her bag by the front door, and clasps her hands in front of her. The picture of innocence. 

This time, they just come straight out with it. For Cheryl and Toni, she’s pretty much their last hope. So, _when_ she fails, they’ve already made arrangements to sleep at Veronica’s tonight. “There’s a spider in the kitchen. None of us are willing to touch it.” Cheryl sighs. 

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ll take care of it.” And she disappears into the kitchen without a fuss. 

Shock has Cheryl sitting up straight in her usual fashion, and Toni’s already scrambling off the couch to see what’s happening in the kitchen with Betty and the spider. The other four soon follow. 

Sure enough, Betty has slipped the page torn from the magazine that lay discarded from earlier under the glass, and lifted the spider contained with up into the air. Without so much as a flinch, she moves towards the back door, gesturing to Veronica open it for her. And she’s cooing. Fucking _cooing_. 

They have spent all day trying to find a solution; Betty shows up and it’s all _who’s a pretty spider_ this, and _you’re a pretty spider_ that. 

The door closes behind Betty as she comes back inside, an empty glass in hand. And, honestly, they’re all a little embarrassed that Betty—Elizabeth Cooper, with her pastel sweaters and big blue eyes and golden blonde hair—is the one person among them who would even go near the spider, let alone pick it up.   

With a smile, she holds out the glass, offering it to Cheryl. “Problem solved.” 

With a grimace, Cheryl pushes the  glass away. There is not enough washing liquid in the world that will make her drink out of that thing again. “Keep it. As a token of our thanks.” 

* * *

 

The six of them eat out at Pop’s that night, despite Cheryl and Toni’s spiderless kitchen. They’re tired and hungry and there’s more space in a booth, anyway. The food’s better, too. 

Cheryl’s arm is draped around Toni’s shoulder, her nose buried in pink hair, whispering, more often than not. Whatever it is she’s saying, it makes Toni giggle. They look happy. They _are_ happy. 

“Who would have thought it?” Cheryl says, to the group as a whole, this time. “Betty Cooper, our very own spider-whisperer.” 

“I like that,” Veronica laughs, nudging the blonde with an elbow. “Betty Cooper: spider-whisperer.”

 

Needless to say, the next time there’s a spider in Cheryl and Toni’s kitchen, Betty is their first call. 

**Author's Note:**

> i’d just like to say, that pretty much everyone’s reaction to the eight legged monstrosity in this fic is based directly off me. except betty of course.
> 
> spiders are fucking terrifying.


End file.
